


Warped Timeline A

by princehadri, whytekatt



Series: Parallel Screwups [1]
Category: Homestuck
Genre: Asphyxiation, Canonical Character Death, Character Death, Choking, M/M, Murder
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2013-09-05
Updated: 2013-09-05
Packaged: 2017-12-25 16:34:10
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 462
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/955339
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/princehadri/pseuds/princehadri, https://archiveofourown.org/users/whytekatt/pseuds/whytekatt
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>You've never been strong. You're a shitty leader. You're a pretty shitty friend, too. But Gamzee just keeps pushing your fucking buttons.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Warped Timeline A

"No matter what you do, bro, you’ll never hurt me as bad as I hurt you."

Your hands are around his neck, pressing hard against his windpipe.

But still Gamzee just laughs. Or so you imagine.

He’s choking beneath the pressure, only capable of the barest of noises as fingers wrap around his throat and  _squeeze_.

You would think the fucking clown was losing consciousness if it weren’t for the grin on his lips.

You can see it clear in his eyes.

_Do it. Mother fucking do it._

"You’re my fucking…responsibility! I never asked for this!"

Grey lips twitch into an attempt at a smirk. Gamzee knows. He knows and he did it all on purpose.

Your hands curl more, repositioning against his throat, thumbs pressing against that little conture just above his collarbone. He wheezes and hurks, hands finally moving from his sides to grab at your wrists. It’s not a thought through action but the involuntary result of the body’s ‘fight or flight’ mechanism.

You press down harder and watch his face become a darker purple than grey.

The grin is still on his mouth, stretched across his greasepaint smeared face. Thin and weak and forced and as permanent as the death mask of a corpse.

You can feel his trachea beginning to give way under your fingers.

His grip tightens on your wrists, but you just press down harder. “Why…why did you pick _me_ , you fucking assclown?!”

You try to ignore the red welling at your eyes. You try to ignore them even more than the purple that’s spilling from his and his mouth. At this point, it’s hard to tell if it’s blood or tears, but you don’t care.

He swallows and you can feel it. Just as you can feel his blood pulsing under your fingers. “I told you I didn’t want to be your fucking friend! But you MADE ME!”

Your arms jerk and his throat gives and, for a moment, you swear you see panic in his eyes.

Your hands slowly recoil and you get to your feet.

He’s definitely panicked.

He didn’t think you’d do it.

You didn’t think you’d do it.

But you did.

You stand above him, watching this former monstrosity curl and writhe. His fingers scratch at his throat, leaving deep treads of purple in their wake. He gasps and shakes, and there are no longer any noises coming from him.

His smile is finally gone, crossed with a look of fear.

Until he stops moving and rolls on to his back.

His eyes close and his hands move to his chest - index fingers and thumbs pressed together wide. You can’t tell if it’s a diamond or a spade.

But his smile has returned.

And his life is gone.


End file.
